


Head Above Water

by Duck_Life



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Episode: s06e10-11 Chain of Command Parts 1-2, Friendship, Gen, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Team as Family, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:14:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21554473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duck_Life/pseuds/Duck_Life
Summary: The crew of the Enterprise helps Captain Picard adjust after his time enduring Cardassian torture.
Relationships: Beverly Crusher/Jean-Luc Picard
Comments: 7
Kudos: 95





	Head Above Water

The first thing immediately clear to Jean-Luc upon his rematerialization aboard the Enterprise is that Lt. Worf is alive. 

"Worf," he gasps, stepping off the transporter pad. The Klingon stands stock-straight in front of him, his security team ready should the Cardassians down below try anything. "You're alive."

"Yes," Worf says, arms out in case he needs to catch Picard. The captain's legs are weak and weary. He stumbles a few steps before bracing himself on the transporter console. "Dr. Crusher and I were able to escape and make it to the established rendezvous point."

"Doctor… ?" Jean-Luc says, tired eyes swiveling around the room. He spots Beverly by the door, and his knees buckle again. 

"I'm here," she says, coming to stand by him. She holds an arm out to keep him steady. Distantly, Jean-Luc feels ashamed at how weak he's appearing in front of the security team, but mostly he's too tired to care. "I'm here. It's okay, Jean-Luc. I've got you."

"You're alright," Jean-Luc says quietly, curled into her space. "Beverly… you're alright. They told me they were hurting you."

"No. Jean-Luc, they were lying," she says. She has her arms around him now, like she can protect him from the rest of the universe. "Come on, let's go to sickbay."

* * *

There’s hardly anybody in sickbay when they arrive. It occurs to Jean-Luc, distantly, that Beverly might have ordered her nurses out for now. It’s hard to serve under a captain after you’ve seen him broken down to nothing. 

Beverly guides him to a cot and immediately starts in with her scanners and computers and her medical tricorder. She’s moving like she has more than just the two hands, taking his vitals and recording her readings and, every now and then, smoothing a hand over his shoulder as if to comfort him. 

He tries to just lie back and let her work, but every time he shuts his eyes he’s seeing Madred’s face. Every time the doctor touches him he flinches, expecting a slap or a kick or, worst, the gut-wrenching bone-rattling pain of their torture devices, echoing through his nervous system. It’s impossible to relax, even with Beverly’s constant reassurances, “You’re safe, you’re safe, it’s okay, I’m just attaching the heart monitor now, I’m just cleaning this laceration now, it’s okay, just one more, one more, it’s okay, I promise, just one more.” 

He’s vaguely aware of Riker coming in and standing sentry by the doorway. 

* * *

"Do the Cardassians have holodeck technology?" Jean-Luc asks. Beverly has been trying to get him rehydrated, but his voice still sounds cracked and dry.

Instead of answering right away, she stops what she's doing and goes to sit by his cot. She holds his hand. "Jean-Luc," she says, "this is real. I'm real. You're back on the Enterprise." He doesn't look convinced. She sighs. "Computer, end program."

The computer beeps, then intones, "That command is not applicable."

"You see?" Beverly says, squeezing his hand. "We got you back."

* * *

  
  


At some point, Beverly leans over and says something to Will. He leaves and comes back with a pile of the captain's clothes. 

* * *

"Deanna is here."

"I'm not… I don't… I'm not ready to speak to a, a counselor yet," Jean-Luc says. 

"She's not here as a counselor," Beverly says quietly. "Is it okay if she comes in to see you?" He nods.

The first thing Counselor Troi does upon sitting down is reach for his hands. Not demanding, not grabbing, just there. There if he needs her, and well, he always needs her. Jean-Luc takes her hands and offers the strongest smile he can muster. Troi looks back at him with big, sad eyes. “I’m alright. The doctor says I’m going to be alright,” he says. 

“I know,” Deanna sighs. “It’s good to see you. Good to see you… intact.” However true that is. She pulls their joined hands up so she can wipe at the tears gathering in her eyes. “Jellico is an absolute nightmare, just so you know,” she says, the hint of a smile on her face. “I mean… you can’t imagine the hell we’ve been through.” 

She does something no one’s been able to do since he arrived back on the  _ Enterprise _ — she makes him laugh. 

* * *

After two days, Picard is well enough to leave sickbay. It’s good to sleep in his own quarters, to be surrounded by comfort and familiarity. His things, his life. He tries playing his flute, but the notes come out all wrong. His lungs ache. He sets the instrument down. 

Instead of moping in his quarters, he heads for Ten-Forward. Hours pass as he stands by the observation window, watching the galaxies speed by. Guinan stands beside him. He doesn’t say anything, but she listens anyway. 

* * *

Evidently, Jellico insisted on the aquarium being removed from the ready room. Jean-Luc finds out through Riker that Data has taken responsibility for feeding his fish.

"Let's hope that cat of his didn't go after it," he says dryly, heading for Data's quarters. He may not be ready to resume his duties as captain yet, but he can at least take care of Livingston. 

As expected, Data's cat Spot does not seem pleased to be sharing their quarters with the lionfish. She perches on Data's desk watching the fish in the tank with deep suspicion. "No seafood tonight, puss," Jean-Luc says, giving the cat a good-natured pat before turning his attention to the tank. 

Livingston is as vibrant and lively as ever. Picard trails his fingers against the side of the tank, waiting to see if the lionfish will follow. Sometimes he does, sometimes he doesn't. Picard wonders if the fish noticed he was gone. 

And he thinks, suddenly, of Gul Madred's daughter bringing her pet into the interrogation chamber. The way even the young girl had looked at him as if he, too, were a caged animal. 

Picard's hand trembles, shaking against the glass. 

* * *

Deanna’s suggestion that he spend some time on the holodeck is a good idea. As soon as he slips on that old coat and hat, it’s like he’s setting Jean-Luc Picard aside, safe on a shelf. He can just be Dixon Hill here. 

He strides into his office and takes the message from Ruby— he’s been hired to track down a missing man. Simple. Straightforward. San Francisco buzzes around him. Dixon Hill has an appointment with the missing man’s wife. He nails down the details about Jack Neibolt’s last known whereabouts, gets a timetable in place. 

He sets up a meeting with one of Neibolt’s poker buddies. It seems the stakes may have gotten too high for Jack Neibolt. Most likely, he’s skipped town and is hiding out until the heat dies down. Most likely. The friend is supposed to meet Dixon Hill outside of a diner across town. He’s late. 

Time ticks by— and then there’s someone grabbing his arm, a gloved hand over his mouth. He’s forced into the back of a car and the old automobile peels away, slithering through the simulated streets of San Francisco until finally skidding to a stop outside an old warehouse. And Picard panics. (Dixon Hill does not.)

They drag him inside, toss him into a chair. There are seven men surrounding him, all armed. “Gentlemen,” Dixon Hill greets them, “you know, you always could have just called.”

“You’ll talk when we tell you to,” one of the men sneers, and he switches on the light hanging in the center of the room. “Have you been contacted by Jackie Neibolt?” But the words sound as though they’re traveling through water to get to him. The light. There is one light hanging in the center of the room.

(There is—)

“Wait, I— I’ll tell you,” Picard stammers, because he is Picard again and Dixon Hill is gone and there are 

(There is—)

Picard is hunched over with his hands covering his face before he remembers that none of this is real. “Computer, end program,” he wheezes, and then there is nothing, no one. Just a broken man kneeling in an empty room. 

* * *

There’s nothing medically wrong with him.

He goes to sickbay anyway. 

“I don’t know how to move past this,” he confesses, leaning across Dr. Crusher’s desk. “I don’t know how to be the man I was. They took that from me, they took… they took everything from me, Beverly.” 

“Not everything,” she says, squeezing his hand. “What you said in the transporter room. You thought the Cardassians had captured me and Worf.” 

“They told me they killed Worf,” Picard says, trying to keep himself here in the moment even as he thinks back to his time with Madred. “They told me they were holding you captive, that… that they would start torturing you once they were done with me. Th-they gave me a chance to leave, Beverly. But then they told me… told me… I didn’t know they were lying. I thought they had you. I couldn’t let them start in on you, too, I just… I thought if I just kept holding out, they wouldn’t hurt you.”

“You offered yourself up because you were trying to protect me,” Beverly says. “You’re a good man, Jean-Luc. They didn’t take that away from you; they couldn’t.” 

“They tried,” he says. “They tried.” 

“And they didn’t succeed.” Beverly takes his hand in both of hers, running a thumb along the calluses there. 

She’s alive. She’s whole. Somehow, miraculously, so is he. Despite everything, he is still alive and whole. And maybe that means he’s enough. Right now, in this moment, he’s enough. Beverly certainly seems to think so. 

“No,” Jean-Luc agrees, leaning into her. “No, they didn’t.”


End file.
